Chapter 11
She couldn't afford another slip.
- You sneaked out again, didn't you Lexi?
- You know I'd rather spend some time with you instead of those old chaps.
- And what about professor Ashcroft, is he an old chap?
- Oh stop it, there's nothing going on with Richard. He has a girlfriend, or well someone. And his name is just Croft.
- But he's that handsome, ain't he?
- How old are you anyway? Pulling off cheap jokes on bands from the 90s.
- How old are you calling me out on that?
- We are educated people.
- We are educated people. That's what it is. By the way I didn't hear you mentioning you don't fancy him.
- Shut up, it's not like I have to mention every time I don't fancy someone.
- You did it with Paul.
- That's because he fancied me.
- Anthony.
- That doesn't count, he's your boyfriend and you asked me. Not cool by the way.
- Lame Lamar.
- Didn't say I don't fancy him. Just said he's lame.
- So you do fancy him.
- No I don't.
- That counts.
- Richard is like fifteen years older than me.
- He's a little experienced.
- Now, that's a clear sign you don't know him.
- Is he boring?
- No, he's not boring. Doesn't strike me as an overly confident guy, that's all.
- Mmm, what kind of name is Justcroft anyway?
Alex and Laura bursted out in a laughter that turned the heads of the couple at the nearby table.
- Sorry, sorry. - said Laura, still trying to regain her composure, and then to Alex - So, luv, you know the way. I should be out of here in a couple of hours if you want to grab a bite later.
- I'm not sure, I've got a ton of work to do.
- Anyway, you can stay if you want. Greg and Priya have the next shift, so they won't bother you. But then they'll need to...
- Of course, don't worry I'll be out by the time they need to get everything ready.
*
The power of tradition: how mainstream feminism endorsed a male-led society in Western democracies. By Susan Grant.
Tough one.
By the end of the first page Alex's feelings towards Susie had shifted from unease, due to the conditions of their first encounters, to a weird form of intimidation. Some of it was surely reverential: to some degree it was the same sense of discomfort she had felt once she learned Susie was Professor Grant's niece. Although there was something more now. Alex had to admit to herself that Susie's looks and ways had led her to underestimate the girl, at least from an academic standpoint.
Still, whenever she lost focus and drifted from the topic of the paper, her mind wandered to the night before, to the alley and the image of Susie's body pushed against the wall as Charlie was going down on her.
Alex tried to push that thought away, but it wasn't easy since her left hand was mechanically and constantly rubbing her clit. Now that she was sitting alone in a secluded booth, she had to actively keep her level of arousal up in order to be ready for her next edge that was due in minutes.
She kept reading the essay.
On the laptop screen Susan Grant was brilliantly arguing how a swift change of perspective in the public discourse allowed the sexualization of the female body to change its status from a patriarchy trademark to an empowerment device. Of course it depended on who was perceived as the active subject, but still: wasn't it internalising a foreign concept instead of creating a new one? Were sex and gender the first frameworks to appeal to for a new feminist reading of social interactions? And even if it was so, should mainstream views on sex and gender of this day and age be allowed to define what's empowering and what not for each and every woman in the world?
In Alex's head Susie was looking over her shoulder as she felt the overwhelming spasms of orgasm coming up, she was looking in her direction, straight at the small patch of dim light outside the pub's door, her gaze fixed on the crouched girl furiously rubbing the crotch of her shorts. Their eyes meeting as the fog of pleasure was blurring their vision. Susie's lips were slightly parted to let out the steam she couldn't breath out through her nose, her tongue almost imperceptibly moving as she mouthed the words: good girl.
The loud vibration from the phone abandoned on the table made Alex jump in her seat.
Fuck, come on, come... here you go, start the streaming. The image was poorly lit but still clear enough. Holding the phone up Alex turned around to make sure she was still alone: nobody around, distant sounds coming from the bar, Laura's voice asking a customer if he wanted a side with his avocado toast. Alex's hand was already opening the dress to expose her pussy to the camera, her fingers easily making their way inside. The moaning, the troubled breathing, the fast ascent, the verge of climax, the mewling, and...
Hands off. It's all over too soon. Well done Alex.
*
DarkPassenger: Sorry I'm late.
As if she had the chance to keep track of time. The whole day had been a blur of scenes from a dream, and the only sense of time Alex could grasp in that whirlwind was measured in edges. Just giving shape to that thought made her squirm.
DarkPassenger: I hope you've got your fitness tracker now, you're going to need it.
Alex was puzzled but she answered anyway that she had bought a FitBit and synced it with her phone.
